Lyrics:

And sports needs steroids. It does are you kidding me, oh baseball certainly, baseball is a strike away from being soccer. And if you like soccer, well, welcome to America. See our country already has entertainment, so watching people chase a ball around for four hours to end zero-zero isn’t enjoyably unless of course the bleachers collapse and half of Europe dies. Or you’re watching that girl from the University New Mexico. She seems pretty competitive. Remember her? She was yanking chicks down by the hair, kicking chicks in the pussy. I can only assume that her father was in a bunch of gambling debt and everything was riding on that game. And she’s out there, “I’m doing this for you pa,” or she really hates Mormons, one or the other. Pretty sure they were playing BYU
Ah, Baseball. Nobody wants to watch a pitching battle either, lets hit the ball deep. Don’t worry about your records either, for every superstar that has done steroids, a billion double a boys have juiced up, so the playing field is plenty even. Well put an asterisk next to Barry bonds name sure, as soon as we put one next to Babe Ruth’s name: getting to break record before black people were allowed to play. Excuse me, where is that asterisks? Why don’t people talk about that? I’d love to know how many homers the babe would’ve hit had CC be throwing 92 mile an hour sliders. Maybe, the fat boy would’ve put the cigar down and quit pointing had José been allowed to swim 90 miles to throw him a junk ball. Don’t worry if you don’t follow: 90 miles is the distance from Key West to Cuba, José is a stereotypical name for a Latino ball player, and a junk ball is an impossible pitch to hit yard any place except for the new Yankee stadium, which is a joke
The point is the record books might look a little different had our country not founded by racists, that’s all. And I love that in 2010 you’re still not allowed to shit on the founding fathers. Why not? Screw them. They’re a bunch of racist fucking pigs with a handful of good ideas. I just hope that when they were signing the declaration of independence, they shot each other a glance, “all men are created equal, you know what we mean. Now get me some hot coffee boy.”
At least we not women, right fellas? Jeez. What is that like, is it horrible, is it awful, to know you’re number 2? By the way, these aren’t my beliefs; it’s my observations on the world I live in. If it changes, I’ll adjust the material accordingly. I like when you try to rationalize it, “No it’s great being a women, free drinks is worth not having equality.” Listen, you’re in great country to be number two, because at least in America its close, right, men are here women are here. Some countries it’s like this, and house cat is right there. That is a bad country to be a woman in. Don’t’ get lost in a hike there, you’ll end up on YouTube without a head, and there’s no web redemption for that
I do think we could be a little less PC when it comes to sports though. Just once, I want to hear an announcer go, “god black people are fast. Holy cow, All of them, they’re fast. Back to you Bob.” Why don’t we say that, we’re all the same species, got it. If I’m at a horse track and I see them cramming Clydesdale in gate 3, uh, I’m not going to put my money on it, gonna bet on the thoroughbred, preferably one from Jamaica, they’ve got wheels
I don’t like Stuart Scott on sports center. If you don’t who he is, he’s a black gentleman that graduated from UNC with almost perfect grades. He feels the need to talk hip hop for absolutely no reason at all. While he’s calling plays he’ll be like boo-yah. Easy Stuart. First of all, I have more street cred than you. Second of all, I have HD television and you have one eye. Yeah, it’s grossing me out. It’s eight in the morning, I’m eating egos, I don’t want to see Cyclops struggling with the teleprompter. Boo-yah. Take that to the UK where they embrace ugly people on television, not here in America you circus freak. Yeah, next time you want to catch passes on the side line, use your hands don’t let it come to the body, you learn that in Pop Warner. I’m aware that I could end the joke at the good part, I choose not to